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Calling all "RYANS"
- Thread starter Maria
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Monorail Lime
Well-Known Member
moshi moshi? moshi moshi?
RobFL
Account Suspended
Originally posted by Maria
You are right Rob... I reemmber hating when I was in the greeter position and right when I was in the middle of a good conversation with a guest, someone came and "bump"...
Hehe.. most of our problem stem from wanting out of a position.
Greeter isn't too bad, unless it's really really hot or like torrential downpour.
Theater 2 is sooooooo boring. Just you, the darkness, and the movie. You eventually block the movie out which makes it even duller.
Pre-show gets people "Snippy" because it's stressful. You're watching a photocell, having to open and cut the doors, counting wheelchairs so you're not overloaded, watching a clock to make sure you hit your interactive speils on time.. It can be very stressful.
Theater 1 isn't bad. A few speils and a few buttons to push and a much more interesting movie.
Pre-show Load helps Theater 1 unload and then load, then closes the doors from pre-show, loads preshow earlier than possible with just the preshow person (who is still in Theater 1 watching for last minute jumpers) and then returns to Theater 1 for the next unload after the movie starts in preshow. Lots of walking but fun cuz you see lots of CMs.
-Rob
Going back to the computer game discussion we had, I found this.
The Sorcerer of Sony
By: Geoff Keighley
Issue: August 2002
Print Article | Email This Article
The hottest properties in cyberspace are virtual worlds. Meet the man who's making magic -- and millions of dollars each month -- by developing the Net's newest boomtowns.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On any given day, you can find John Smedley smiting the odd necromancer or brandishing his sword alongside wood elves who want to kill the emperor of the snakelike Shissars. Sometimes, though, he just strolls around observing his fellow citizens. To you, they might look like knights, wizards, and ogres, scuttling across a three-dimensional landscape of castles, caves, and dank swamps.
But to him, they must look like money.
Smedley, 33, is the chief operating officer of Sony Online Entertainment, where he's master of the virtual boomtown known as EverQuest. Once a destination for the fringe Dungeons & Dragons crowd, the online role-playing game now has 433,000 paying customers who generate $5 million a month for the Japanese entertainment giant. Given the 40 percent gross-profit margins, and the fact that this world practically runs itself, the dragon-slaying business is looking pretty good these days.
It's so good that virtual worlds like EverQuest are fast becoming the hottest thing online. Just about every big game company is breaking virtual ground on one, looking to establish colonies that could one day generatefortunes. This fall, industry titan Electronic Arts (ERTS) is turning the most popular computer game in the history of the world -- the Sims, which has sold 7 million copies so far -- into an online Club Med where subscribers can chat, flirt, and perhaps one day make virtual babies.
Over at Microsoft (MSFT), programmers are revamping the Asheron's Call fantasy game. Vivendi-Universal (V) plans to introduce a militaristic world for fans of its best-selling Warcraft strategy games. Disney (DIS) is building Toontown. Other potentially huge theme worlds based on the Harry Potter books, Marvel Comics superheroes, and The Matrix are in the works.
One of the biggest and most ambitious of all is ready to launch. In July, Sony and LucasArts Entertainment are releasing a beta of Star Wars's first online colony. Star Wars Galaxies: An Empire Divided is set in a galaxy far, far away (sometime before the action of The Empire Strikes Back). Subscribers can play bounty hunters looking for Jedi knights, Wookiees exploring Jabba the Hutt's palace, or any number of other galactic roles. For Star Wars fans, who can effectively live here round the clock, it'll be like opium.
"This will blow the market open like a supernova," says Brad McQuaid, EverQuest's co-designer.
Maybe that's true, but so far only 1 million of the 145 million Americans who play videogames subscribe to any online worlds. And a recent study by the Interactive Digital Software Association found that two-thirds of gamers aren't inclined to play any online games. Most say they have little interest in current offerings, which haven't yet branched out beyond the men-in-tights fantasy worlds.
With the steady adoption of broadband connections and powerful desktop PCs that render awesome graphics on the fly, however, some say a new form of entertainment will finally take root -- and move toward a more mainstream audience. Consultancy Themis Group pegs 2003 revenues from online games at $635 million, more than double this year's draw. "Virtual worlds won't be a novelty anymore," predicts Paul-Jon McNealey, research director at market analyst Gartner G2. "Online gaming isn't just for hard-core geeks."
Some pundits are betting that Galaxies could end up making more money than this year's Star Wars movie. That's where Smedley comes in. A tall man with a broad forehead accentuated by a receding hairline, he loves his games so much that he has a satellite dish on his fishing boat to keep track of their progress. Galaxies is his biggest project to date; it cost an estimated $10 million to develop. Smedley is betting on its success. If he's right, it could change not just Sony, but the face of entertainment.
Smedley (his friends call him Smed) has been thinking about vivid 3-D virtual worlds since he was at Mt. Carmel High School in San Diego. That's when he and Russell Shanks, now the chief technology officer at Sony Online, holed up in the computer lab during lunch hour and played text-based MUDs -- so-called multiuser dungeons that simulated the action of the Dungeons & Dragons game.
In those days, online games were free, run from university servers by computer science jocks. After 18 months at San Diego State University, where he was studying computer science, Smedley dropped out to write games on contract for Alien Technology Group. In 1993 he finally took a full-time job at Sony. He needed the salary to support his own online habit: By then, Smedley was running up $600 monthly bills on CyberStrike, one of the first graphic action games played online against others.
He knew that CyberStrike, while primitive, was on the right track. If he was willing to pay to play, he reasoned, there were probably lots of other gamers out there who would be too. So in 1996, Smedley pitched his boss at a Sony-owned PlayStation development studio on the idea of an online role-playing game. It would involve thousands of players at a time, he said. It would be three-dimensional. It would make a fortune.
Smedley recalls, "I got three minutes into this huge presentation, and he just flat out said, 'No.'"
But a few months later, a new boss, Kelly Flock, arrived. Smedley tried his pitch again. He pointed out that programmers at other companies were already working on virtual-world games like Meridian 59. And while he didn't know it at the time, Electronic Arts was already working on Ultima Online. He got the green light: EverQuest was a go. Smedley hired McQuaid and Steve Clover, two ace game programmers who were slaving as corporate systems administrators. Within three years, the small San Diego skunk works grew into a team of 56 developers and one of Sony's most expensive game projects, with a development budget approaching $5 million.
That wasn't what Sony had in mind. Videogame development for the PlayStation typically cost $2 million, and the economics were understood. But $5 million on a virtual world that would run only on PCs? The company was ready to pull the plug on future online projects for the PC.
So, with a mere six months to go before the game was ready for launch, Smedley and team formed their own company, Verant Interactive. And a different division of Sony even agreed to take a 20 percent stake in the venture.
EverQuest launched in early 1999. Some 12,000 people signed up on the first day; by the end of the week, it had more than 50,000 subscribers willing to pay $10 a month. Gamers jacking into the world generated so much traffic that the Internet nearly crashed in the San Diego area.
The most optimistic boosters at Verant were dumbfounded. This game wasn't supposed to break even for another two years, by which time it was expected to have signed up 70,000 subscribers. But six months after it launched, 150,000 people were paying to play in Smedley's online medieval faire.
A year after the breakup, Sony bought the rest of Verant for $32 million.
Smedley now had the deep pockets he needed to take on Electronic Arts, Microsoft, and Vivendi-Universal. This time Sony hasn't balked at bulking up. The company now has 480 employees at studios in San Diego, Austin, and St. Louis.
But the transition took its toll. "John definitely felt a bit awkward with all the growth at first," remembers Kevin Baca, a former programmer at the company. Smedley was drawn into a power struggle with the CEO of Sony Online. Although Smedley won full responsibility for spearheading Sony Online, McQuaid, one of Smedley's closest friends and a co-designer of EverQuest, left to start his own company, Sigil Games.
Now McQuaid is the competition, working on a persistent-world game for Microsoft. Imagine what an EverQuest veteran can do with the powerful Net-connected Xbox as his platform. It doesn't take a genius to see where all this is headed.
Sony chairman Nobuyuki Idei is worried. His company sells a lot of PlayStation 2s. It also sells tons of Walkman units, Trinitrons, and Vaio laptops -- about $57 billion worth last year. But intense competition has shaved profit margins on Sony's core electronics business to a razor-thin 1 percent, and Sony is locked into a price war with Microsoft, which last quarter trimmed the cost of its critically acclaimed but struggling Xbox to a money-losing but market-share-gobbling $199.
Idei has repeatedly said that if Sony fails to find a new business model, it will devolve into a mere supplier of electronic components. Movies and music are a hit-and-miss business. The name of the postbubble game is subscription services, which are reliable and based on service fees that can be hiked up incrementally over time, as demand allows.
The beauty of EverQuest, aside from its subscription model, is that players effectively pay to entertain each other. Sony just provides the playground: more than 1,000 computers in San Diego that have kept the game running since 1999. EverQuest also relies on 47 staffers to continually add items and quests to the game; another 128 "game masters" function as customer service reps and patrol the world answering questions.
The result is a game so addictive that the typical player spends 20 hours a week on EverQuest. That's about 8.6 million man-hours a month devoted to the game. (It took 7 million man-hours spread over 14 months to build the Empire State Building.) One-third of players 18 and older spend more time in the game world than they do at their paying jobs, according to Edward Castronova, a California State University at Fullerton economics professor who studied usage. Scarier still, some 22 percent said they'd spend all their time there if they could.
What's the attraction? Mostly socializing. Players keep coming back to find friends. Some have held funerals there for players who have died in real life. "We even have one player from Vatican City, although we haven't asked him what he does for a living," Smedley says.
It's a given that this is an intensely loyal group of gamers. Last April, when Sony raised the monthly subscription price 31 percent to $12.95, it hardly lost a player. In fact, Smedley says the game continues to add 12,000 players a month.
Hidden revenue streams are just starting to be understood. Sony runs about 42 versions to avoid overpopulation in any one world. But instead of simply load-balancing the number of players per computer, it allows fans to relocate their characters to different worlds on other servers -- for $50 a move. "Would you believe we've generated over $1 million in revenue simply from moving characters?" Smedley marvels. While the company discourages players from selling off their personae or equipment for real dollars, black-market auctions are commonplace, with some gear going for as much as $2,000. (See The Real Economics of Virtual Worlds.")
Each year, the company throws off enough cash to fund the construction of another world, like the upcoming $20 million EverQuest II. By leveraging the technology and code already written, each successive world could get cheaper to build.
So which worlds to launch? Sony's virtual-world development is Hollywood-like in its intensity. Talks with the filmmaking Wachowski brothers about bringing The Matrix online didn't go anywhere, but discussions with Marvel Comics may yield an online universe based on comic book characters like Spider-Man, the X-Men, and Marvel's panoply of colorful villains. (The Wachowskis later hooked up with Warner Bros.)
Sony's also talking about a virtual world based on the post-apocalyptic vision in the Terminator movies. Next summer brings the release of the next movie in the series, Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines. Yair Landau, president of Sony Pictures Digital Entertainment and Smedley's boss, says the company may want to create a world of battling cyborg armies. "That property might be right for us. I think gamers really identify with that franchise," he says.
Next year Sony releases PlanetSide, the first experiment of a first-person action game (think Quake) in a persistent world. Also in development is Sovereign, a real-time strategy game that will let players fight battles in future worlds. Soon, Landau says, Sony will even bring out single-player EverQuest games.
Sony's also exploring global markets. This summer, Korean game maker NCsoft will launch EverQuest in the largest online game market in the world, South Korea, where 6 percent of the population plays online games (see "Korea's National Pastime.").
But for now, Sony is confident that Star Wars Galaxies, which officially arrives in December, will eclipse all other worlds, even EverQuest. More than 139,000 players signed up for the beta test of the game, which Sony is building for LucasArts Entertainment in a revenue-sharing arrangement. Sony Online predicts that within the first three months, 500,000 people will buy the boxed Galaxies product and then begin paying an as-yet-unannounced monthly subscription fee.
That's only the start of where Galaxies may go. In 2003, Sony and LucasArts plan to release software that will let players fly X-Wing fighters into combat with hundreds of other competitors. When Sony Online tests the online console market early next year with an EverQuest game for the PlayStation 2, it goes after a share of the 40 million owners of game machines. Console versions of Galaxies could further open up that category. Assuming just a 10th of the console players get hooked, Galaxies would turn into a $500 million-a-year business. By comparison, the domestic box office tally of Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones is projected to reach about $300 million.
Certainly, EverQuest's revenues are chicken feed to Sony. One hit movie from its Columbia Pictures unit can make two or three times what EverQuest brings in. But if Sony Online could replicate EverQuest's success in game after game, creating alternate compelling virtual worlds for every fantasy -- the Wild West, World War II, ancient Rome, George Orwell's 1984, or New York's 1930s mob wars -- it suddenly could be looking at revenue streams easily approaching several billion dollars a year.
With that kind of money, it won't be long before Hollywood moguls start to see movies as the film trailers (or the real estate tours) that introduce us to the online virtual worlds where we can actually live the movie. Sony's Landau says, "This is no Internet hype story." Just ask Smedley.
http://www.business2.com/articles/mag/0,,42210,FF.html
The Sorcerer of Sony
By: Geoff Keighley
Issue: August 2002
Print Article | Email This Article
The hottest properties in cyberspace are virtual worlds. Meet the man who's making magic -- and millions of dollars each month -- by developing the Net's newest boomtowns.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On any given day, you can find John Smedley smiting the odd necromancer or brandishing his sword alongside wood elves who want to kill the emperor of the snakelike Shissars. Sometimes, though, he just strolls around observing his fellow citizens. To you, they might look like knights, wizards, and ogres, scuttling across a three-dimensional landscape of castles, caves, and dank swamps.
But to him, they must look like money.
Smedley, 33, is the chief operating officer of Sony Online Entertainment, where he's master of the virtual boomtown known as EverQuest. Once a destination for the fringe Dungeons & Dragons crowd, the online role-playing game now has 433,000 paying customers who generate $5 million a month for the Japanese entertainment giant. Given the 40 percent gross-profit margins, and the fact that this world practically runs itself, the dragon-slaying business is looking pretty good these days.
It's so good that virtual worlds like EverQuest are fast becoming the hottest thing online. Just about every big game company is breaking virtual ground on one, looking to establish colonies that could one day generatefortunes. This fall, industry titan Electronic Arts (ERTS) is turning the most popular computer game in the history of the world -- the Sims, which has sold 7 million copies so far -- into an online Club Med where subscribers can chat, flirt, and perhaps one day make virtual babies.
Over at Microsoft (MSFT), programmers are revamping the Asheron's Call fantasy game. Vivendi-Universal (V) plans to introduce a militaristic world for fans of its best-selling Warcraft strategy games. Disney (DIS) is building Toontown. Other potentially huge theme worlds based on the Harry Potter books, Marvel Comics superheroes, and The Matrix are in the works.
One of the biggest and most ambitious of all is ready to launch. In July, Sony and LucasArts Entertainment are releasing a beta of Star Wars's first online colony. Star Wars Galaxies: An Empire Divided is set in a galaxy far, far away (sometime before the action of The Empire Strikes Back). Subscribers can play bounty hunters looking for Jedi knights, Wookiees exploring Jabba the Hutt's palace, or any number of other galactic roles. For Star Wars fans, who can effectively live here round the clock, it'll be like opium.
"This will blow the market open like a supernova," says Brad McQuaid, EverQuest's co-designer.
Maybe that's true, but so far only 1 million of the 145 million Americans who play videogames subscribe to any online worlds. And a recent study by the Interactive Digital Software Association found that two-thirds of gamers aren't inclined to play any online games. Most say they have little interest in current offerings, which haven't yet branched out beyond the men-in-tights fantasy worlds.
With the steady adoption of broadband connections and powerful desktop PCs that render awesome graphics on the fly, however, some say a new form of entertainment will finally take root -- and move toward a more mainstream audience. Consultancy Themis Group pegs 2003 revenues from online games at $635 million, more than double this year's draw. "Virtual worlds won't be a novelty anymore," predicts Paul-Jon McNealey, research director at market analyst Gartner G2. "Online gaming isn't just for hard-core geeks."
Some pundits are betting that Galaxies could end up making more money than this year's Star Wars movie. That's where Smedley comes in. A tall man with a broad forehead accentuated by a receding hairline, he loves his games so much that he has a satellite dish on his fishing boat to keep track of their progress. Galaxies is his biggest project to date; it cost an estimated $10 million to develop. Smedley is betting on its success. If he's right, it could change not just Sony, but the face of entertainment.
Smedley (his friends call him Smed) has been thinking about vivid 3-D virtual worlds since he was at Mt. Carmel High School in San Diego. That's when he and Russell Shanks, now the chief technology officer at Sony Online, holed up in the computer lab during lunch hour and played text-based MUDs -- so-called multiuser dungeons that simulated the action of the Dungeons & Dragons game.
In those days, online games were free, run from university servers by computer science jocks. After 18 months at San Diego State University, where he was studying computer science, Smedley dropped out to write games on contract for Alien Technology Group. In 1993 he finally took a full-time job at Sony. He needed the salary to support his own online habit: By then, Smedley was running up $600 monthly bills on CyberStrike, one of the first graphic action games played online against others.
He knew that CyberStrike, while primitive, was on the right track. If he was willing to pay to play, he reasoned, there were probably lots of other gamers out there who would be too. So in 1996, Smedley pitched his boss at a Sony-owned PlayStation development studio on the idea of an online role-playing game. It would involve thousands of players at a time, he said. It would be three-dimensional. It would make a fortune.
Smedley recalls, "I got three minutes into this huge presentation, and he just flat out said, 'No.'"
But a few months later, a new boss, Kelly Flock, arrived. Smedley tried his pitch again. He pointed out that programmers at other companies were already working on virtual-world games like Meridian 59. And while he didn't know it at the time, Electronic Arts was already working on Ultima Online. He got the green light: EverQuest was a go. Smedley hired McQuaid and Steve Clover, two ace game programmers who were slaving as corporate systems administrators. Within three years, the small San Diego skunk works grew into a team of 56 developers and one of Sony's most expensive game projects, with a development budget approaching $5 million.
That wasn't what Sony had in mind. Videogame development for the PlayStation typically cost $2 million, and the economics were understood. But $5 million on a virtual world that would run only on PCs? The company was ready to pull the plug on future online projects for the PC.
So, with a mere six months to go before the game was ready for launch, Smedley and team formed their own company, Verant Interactive. And a different division of Sony even agreed to take a 20 percent stake in the venture.
EverQuest launched in early 1999. Some 12,000 people signed up on the first day; by the end of the week, it had more than 50,000 subscribers willing to pay $10 a month. Gamers jacking into the world generated so much traffic that the Internet nearly crashed in the San Diego area.
The most optimistic boosters at Verant were dumbfounded. This game wasn't supposed to break even for another two years, by which time it was expected to have signed up 70,000 subscribers. But six months after it launched, 150,000 people were paying to play in Smedley's online medieval faire.
A year after the breakup, Sony bought the rest of Verant for $32 million.
Smedley now had the deep pockets he needed to take on Electronic Arts, Microsoft, and Vivendi-Universal. This time Sony hasn't balked at bulking up. The company now has 480 employees at studios in San Diego, Austin, and St. Louis.
But the transition took its toll. "John definitely felt a bit awkward with all the growth at first," remembers Kevin Baca, a former programmer at the company. Smedley was drawn into a power struggle with the CEO of Sony Online. Although Smedley won full responsibility for spearheading Sony Online, McQuaid, one of Smedley's closest friends and a co-designer of EverQuest, left to start his own company, Sigil Games.
Now McQuaid is the competition, working on a persistent-world game for Microsoft. Imagine what an EverQuest veteran can do with the powerful Net-connected Xbox as his platform. It doesn't take a genius to see where all this is headed.
Sony chairman Nobuyuki Idei is worried. His company sells a lot of PlayStation 2s. It also sells tons of Walkman units, Trinitrons, and Vaio laptops -- about $57 billion worth last year. But intense competition has shaved profit margins on Sony's core electronics business to a razor-thin 1 percent, and Sony is locked into a price war with Microsoft, which last quarter trimmed the cost of its critically acclaimed but struggling Xbox to a money-losing but market-share-gobbling $199.
Idei has repeatedly said that if Sony fails to find a new business model, it will devolve into a mere supplier of electronic components. Movies and music are a hit-and-miss business. The name of the postbubble game is subscription services, which are reliable and based on service fees that can be hiked up incrementally over time, as demand allows.
The beauty of EverQuest, aside from its subscription model, is that players effectively pay to entertain each other. Sony just provides the playground: more than 1,000 computers in San Diego that have kept the game running since 1999. EverQuest also relies on 47 staffers to continually add items and quests to the game; another 128 "game masters" function as customer service reps and patrol the world answering questions.
The result is a game so addictive that the typical player spends 20 hours a week on EverQuest. That's about 8.6 million man-hours a month devoted to the game. (It took 7 million man-hours spread over 14 months to build the Empire State Building.) One-third of players 18 and older spend more time in the game world than they do at their paying jobs, according to Edward Castronova, a California State University at Fullerton economics professor who studied usage. Scarier still, some 22 percent said they'd spend all their time there if they could.
What's the attraction? Mostly socializing. Players keep coming back to find friends. Some have held funerals there for players who have died in real life. "We even have one player from Vatican City, although we haven't asked him what he does for a living," Smedley says.
It's a given that this is an intensely loyal group of gamers. Last April, when Sony raised the monthly subscription price 31 percent to $12.95, it hardly lost a player. In fact, Smedley says the game continues to add 12,000 players a month.
Hidden revenue streams are just starting to be understood. Sony runs about 42 versions to avoid overpopulation in any one world. But instead of simply load-balancing the number of players per computer, it allows fans to relocate their characters to different worlds on other servers -- for $50 a move. "Would you believe we've generated over $1 million in revenue simply from moving characters?" Smedley marvels. While the company discourages players from selling off their personae or equipment for real dollars, black-market auctions are commonplace, with some gear going for as much as $2,000. (See The Real Economics of Virtual Worlds.")
Each year, the company throws off enough cash to fund the construction of another world, like the upcoming $20 million EverQuest II. By leveraging the technology and code already written, each successive world could get cheaper to build.
So which worlds to launch? Sony's virtual-world development is Hollywood-like in its intensity. Talks with the filmmaking Wachowski brothers about bringing The Matrix online didn't go anywhere, but discussions with Marvel Comics may yield an online universe based on comic book characters like Spider-Man, the X-Men, and Marvel's panoply of colorful villains. (The Wachowskis later hooked up with Warner Bros.)
Sony's also talking about a virtual world based on the post-apocalyptic vision in the Terminator movies. Next summer brings the release of the next movie in the series, Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines. Yair Landau, president of Sony Pictures Digital Entertainment and Smedley's boss, says the company may want to create a world of battling cyborg armies. "That property might be right for us. I think gamers really identify with that franchise," he says.
Next year Sony releases PlanetSide, the first experiment of a first-person action game (think Quake) in a persistent world. Also in development is Sovereign, a real-time strategy game that will let players fight battles in future worlds. Soon, Landau says, Sony will even bring out single-player EverQuest games.
Sony's also exploring global markets. This summer, Korean game maker NCsoft will launch EverQuest in the largest online game market in the world, South Korea, where 6 percent of the population plays online games (see "Korea's National Pastime.").
But for now, Sony is confident that Star Wars Galaxies, which officially arrives in December, will eclipse all other worlds, even EverQuest. More than 139,000 players signed up for the beta test of the game, which Sony is building for LucasArts Entertainment in a revenue-sharing arrangement. Sony Online predicts that within the first three months, 500,000 people will buy the boxed Galaxies product and then begin paying an as-yet-unannounced monthly subscription fee.
That's only the start of where Galaxies may go. In 2003, Sony and LucasArts plan to release software that will let players fly X-Wing fighters into combat with hundreds of other competitors. When Sony Online tests the online console market early next year with an EverQuest game for the PlayStation 2, it goes after a share of the 40 million owners of game machines. Console versions of Galaxies could further open up that category. Assuming just a 10th of the console players get hooked, Galaxies would turn into a $500 million-a-year business. By comparison, the domestic box office tally of Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones is projected to reach about $300 million.
Certainly, EverQuest's revenues are chicken feed to Sony. One hit movie from its Columbia Pictures unit can make two or three times what EverQuest brings in. But if Sony Online could replicate EverQuest's success in game after game, creating alternate compelling virtual worlds for every fantasy -- the Wild West, World War II, ancient Rome, George Orwell's 1984, or New York's 1930s mob wars -- it suddenly could be looking at revenue streams easily approaching several billion dollars a year.
With that kind of money, it won't be long before Hollywood moguls start to see movies as the film trailers (or the real estate tours) that introduce us to the online virtual worlds where we can actually live the movie. Sony's Landau says, "This is no Internet hype story." Just ask Smedley.
http://www.business2.com/articles/mag/0,,42210,FF.html
NowInc
Well-Known Member
...what the hell???
..ok...some of you know that i live in a building in which i am the only one under the age of 40....or so i thought.....right now someone in this building is blasting music...that new Nelly song to be exact...i hope to god its not one of the 40 year olds...
..ok...some of you know that i live in a building in which i am the only one under the age of 40....or so i thought.....right now someone in this building is blasting music...that new Nelly song to be exact...i hope to god its not one of the 40 year olds...
NowInc
Well-Known Member
Originally posted by garyhoov
If it's cold, the grease may be sufficiently coagulated to prevent it from funning through you like a freight train, but I wouldn't take the risk
Actually...i have a really strong stomach..so im thinking it MAY be safe...the vanilla coke could neutralize the chicken grease
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